


Making Friends

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Series: Boarding School Buddies: The Next Generation [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Chuck (TV), Supernatural, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Original Character(s), kid fic ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian Wayne makes friends at boarding school the only way he seems to know how; by fighting evil with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Friends

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Pay no mind to my science. I know it's wrong.  
> 2\. Yes, they are original kid characters. Don't judge me. I know I'm the worst.

If he’s really honest with himself, he’s been observing them for weeks, this quartet of people. It’s why he’s ended up in detention this afternoon.

Damian Wayne has settled himself in the back of the classroom, and he watches discreetly from behind his Ancient History textbook as they file in.

The first to arrive is Willow Bartowski. She is gorgeous. Pale skinned and dark haired; her eyes are large and brown and she is tall. She’s nearly as tall as he is. The plaid skirt of her uniform hits just below her knees, and when she sits, her legs cross in front of her at her ankles. She proceeds to pull out a notebook, and a chemistry text book. There is something that Damian finds appealing about her that he can’t quite put his finger on, and he does his best to push it aside.

Next to arrive is Joseph (Joey) Rogers. He is tall and chiseled, and square-jawed. His brown hair parted down the side and hanging with no gel or mousse to hold it in place. He has kind blue eyes, and there’s something quiet about him; something relaxed and down-to-earth. He tugs at his tie, loosening it a little as he takes a seat. He grins at Willow, and turns to Damian, giving him a grin as well.

The third dashes in on heels that anyone else would have trouble walking in. Apparently Maria Stark has no problem. She is petite; short with brown hair and brown eyes and the hot pink lace of her bra sticks out from her partially unbuttoned crisp, white shirt. If she cared about being the queen bee of their school, that is what she would be, but as it is, it’s not something she’s interested in. She takes the seat next to Willow and leans over to whisper something at her. Willow giggles and whispers back. Damian can’t make it out.

James (Jamie) Winchester saunters in last. He is what everyone at their overpriced boarding school considers the height of cool. He’s blonde and tall (thought not as tall as Rogers), and he always wears his tie loose. He has an easy smile and sharp green eyes and a strange, infectious excitement for life. He often carries a guitar case around with him (he has it now as well), and he is what everyone seems to want, and want to be.

Damian does not understand that, but Winchester seems agreeable enough.

He has done his research on all four of these people; he has observed them. He feels that they would be reliable allies, and possibly adequate friends. Not only because of their demeanors, but because of their families; because of their pasts.

Bartowski’s parents are renowned CIA agents.

Rogers’ father is Captain America. His mother is a spy. Works with the Bartowskis.

Stark’s parents run a corporation that rivals the Waynes’ in size. And her father is Iron Man.

Winchester comes from a line of deadly demon hunters. And Damian’s heard rumors that his mother is related to aliens. His maternal great grandparents own the Vitex empire.

These people, he feels, are worthy of him. They have the potential to be his equals.

Damian watches Winchester flick a paper football at Rogers’ head, and they both laugh.

He did say potential, did he not?

Their teacher walks in, then. Mrs. Vilanski. She’s short, and rail-thin with wary, paranoid gray eyes and short dark hair. The wrinkles and bones in her neck are enough to make even Damian cringe.

She eyes them all as she sets a stack of books and papers down on her desk.

“There will be no talking,” she tells them. “And there will be no note-passing. There will be no football, Mister Winchester.” She snatches the paper football from his fingers and sets it on her desk. “This is detention, and you are all here for a reason. Mr. Wayne. Please move to the front of the room, where I can see you better.”

“*tt.*” He moves slowly, slumping down into the desk on Willow’s other side.

Mrs. Vilanski nods her approval and then looks them over one by one. “Your behavior this morning was abhorrent. You’re all lucky I don’t’ contact your parents.”

No one says anything.

“I’m especially surprised at you, Joey. Your father would be very disappointed.”

Joey grins brightly at their teacher. “My dad once stole a plane with his friends, jumped out of it, and into Nazi occupied Austria, saved a whole bunch of allied prisoners of war and brought them, and a tank, back safely to base camp. All behind the backs of his military superiors, who told him not to get involved. Sometimes disobeying orders pays off.”

“Well, this is not Nazi occupied Austria,” Mrs. Vilanski reminds him.

Maria snorts then.

“Something to share, Miss Stark?” their teacher asks, wholly unimpressed.

“No,” she says, giving a saccharinely innocent smile. “Nothing.”

“You are such a bad liar,” Willow mutters.

“No talking,” Mrs. Vilanski snaps. “Do your homework. And think over what the five of you have done.”

“Sphinctersayswhat?” Jamie asks quickly. Damian can make it out, and the other three can obviously make it out, because they are sniggering.

Mrs. Vilanski is not so quick on the uptake.

“What?”

Jamie grins as his friends try harder not to laugh. “Nothing! Sorry! Just a sneeze.”

“Would you like more detention, Mr. Winchester?”

“No, Ma’am,” Jamie replies, his face serious in a mocking way.

Mrs. Vilanksi glowers and sits at her desk, and Damian shakes his head, letting his gaze drop back to his history text.

Maybe he’s mistaken.

Maybe these people are not as worthy as he’d first suspected. He feels the mild sting of disappointment and sighs to himself.

Things are quiet for a long time. He glances at Willow next to him; sees her concentrating on her own text book and something in his brain catalogues how lovely she is before he scolds himself.

Beyond Willow, Maria looks utterly bored out of her skull, while Joey seems to be happily doing his homework. Jamie is scribbling something down on musical notation paper, but Damian cannot see what.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed when the lights begin to flicker. He looks up and frowns, and then looks to his fellow detainees. All four look oddly concerned.

When one of the light bulbs blows with a loud pop, Mrs. Vilanski jumps, startled. She glowers at the five of them. “Which one of you did that?”

Damian says nothing. He just watches as Jamie gets to his feet, grabbing a piece of chalk from the front chalkboard.

“Young man, what do you think you’re doing?”

He dashes toward the classroom door, and gets on his knees, sketching out a quick circle. He doesn’t get to finish before the door opens, and he’s kicked in the chest, sending him backwards. 

Damian is on his feet in seconds, along with the other three teens as a short, balding man in a black coat steps in.

He grins viciously down a Jamie. “Hullo, James.”

Jamie coughs and sits up. “Sunofabitch.”

“Such a daddy’s boy, you are,” the man says. There’s a growl in his voice that sends a chill up Damian’s spine, like hell itself has come calling.

He hasn’t felt this way since he died that one time.

“What do you want, Crowley?” Jamie asks, getting to his feet slowly.

“Your old man’s been a bit of a thorn in my side lately,” the man – Crowley- explains. 

“Excuse me!” Mrs. Vilanski snaps. She’s making her way to the front door, to Crowley quickly. “You cannot come in here. Do you have a visitor’s pass? Who are you?" 

Crowley sighs heavily and waves a hand.

With a sickening crack, Mrs. Vilanski’s head wrenches back, her neck snapping, and she drops to the floor by Jamie in a heap of dead body.

Damian takes a breath. He admits he’s not in the habit of seeing people die anymore, and the swiftness of it reminds him of his childhood. He looks away, disgusted, and sees Willow and Maria grip each other tightly. Joey just looks angry.

“Now,” Crowley says, advancing on Jamie. “You and I need to have a chat. Possibly while you’re tied up.”

Joey lifts up a desk and sends it hurtling at Crowley’s head with a grunt.

Crowley lifts a hand and the desk falls just short. He grins at Joey. “Cute, Rogers.” When he turns back to Jamie, he’s greeted with a face full of salt.

“Move move move!” Jamie cries, crawling quickly between Crowley’s legs.

The rest of them follow suit, Damian snatching up the utility belt from inside his backpack and dropping a smoke bomb as they shove past a stumbling Crowley.

Jamie gets to his feet and blinks, narrowing his eyes at Damian. “Was that-“

“A smoke pellet,” Damian tells him.

“That’s...handy,” Maria comments, taking a deep breath.

“Who was that?” Damian asks Jamie.

“Nice belt,” Willow comments.

“That was the king of hell,” Jamie tells him. “No big deal.”

“What does he want with you?” Joey asks.

“Dad pissed him off again, what the hell else does he want with me?” Jamie snaps. “We gotta get to the chemistry lab, come on!”

They follow him down the hall and around the corner and Willow glances at Damian.

“What’s with the belt.”

“It’s useful.”

“Are you Batman?”

“Of course he’s not Batman!” Maria cries. “Batman is way old, he doesn’t go to our school!”

“Batman wears a utility belt,” Willow points out. “It’s a valid question.”

“Can we argue about this later?” Joey asks, as they dash into the lab. “We kind of have a bad-ass demon on our tails.”

Jamie runs over to the emergency shower and digs into the pocket of his jeans, coming up with a rosary. “Okay. Okay.” He looks around and finds the water source for it, pulls it up and dunks the rosary into the water. He chants in Latin hurriedly, doing his best to remember all the words.

“What is he doing?” Damian asks as he spreads the contents of his utility belt on one of the lab tables, pulling out more smoke pellets, a few batarangs, a grappling gun and a few other odds and ends.

“You are so Batman,” Willow comments.

“He’s blessing the emergency shower,” Maria says, as she starts putting together a make-shift potato gun.

Joey picks up another piece of pipe and swings it experimentally, while Willow starts putting together other materials.

“What are you doing?” Damian asks.

“Making a flame thrower,” she tells him, grabbing a Bunsen burner and a starter.

“You can do that?”

Willow grins at him as she lights the Bunsen burner. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

The door is kicked open and they scatter, each watching Crowley closely.

“Now, children,” he says, sauntering in slowly. “This has gone far enough, don’t you think?”

When Crowley turns, Joey sneaks up behind him and swings the pipe, but to no avail. Crowley grabs it and slams it against Joey’s head. The boy drops to the ground, unconscious.

Maria shoots the potato gun at Crowley, launching a flint stone into the air and hitting the demon in the head.

He grunts and glowers at her, turning his back on Willow, who attempts to fire off the makeshift flamethrower.

At first it doesn’t work, and Crowley grins. “Poor little Bartowski. Daddy didn’t teach you well enough, did he?”

Willow groans and gives the flamethrower a whack. When it lights up, and shoots fire in Crowley face, he screams and reels back, just in time for Damian to wrap him in a salt-soaked wire from the grappling gun.

Crowley’s eyes go a deep red and he growls up at him. “You little bastard.”

Damian gives him a twisted grin. “You have no idea.” With a heave, he muscles Crowley into the shower, just as Jamie turns it on.

The screaming is awful, and Jamie steps back, watching with a grave expression as the holy water pours down on Crowley.

He kneels down, close to Crowley’s face. “Come near me or my friends or my family again, and I will cut your head off. And you know that I’m serious, because I’m a Winchester. We say we’re gonna kill somebody, it usually happens not long after.”

Crowley glares at him and spits out something about this not being over, before disappearing.

“Okay then,” Jamie nods. He gets to his feet and stumbles over to Joey, shaking his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey, buddy, you okay?”

Joey blinks, his eyes crossed a little. “D’we win?”

Jamie grins. “More or less.” He turns back to Damian and nods. “Thanks for the assist. You’re Damian, right? Damian Wayne?”

“Yes,” Damian says. “And you are Jamie Winchester, Joey Rogers, Willow Bartowski and Maria Stark.”

Maria quirks a wary eyebrow at him. “You’re stalking us?”

“We have chorus together,” Damian tells her.

Joey shrugs. “Sounds legit.”

***** 

Classes are canceled the next day, due to Mrs. Vilanski's death, but no one is sent home to their parents, which disappoints Damian greatly, as he would like nothing more than to spend some unexpected downtime with his father and Grayson and Pennyworth.

Instead, he sits in the quad with his lunch, enjoying some fresh air and the quiet a day off has brought with it.

It doesn't last long. 

Joey Rogers takes the seat next to him and sets down his lunch. "Hey!" 

Damian frowns. "Uh...hello..."

Willow sits across from them and smiles. "It's so pretty out today. Seems odd after what happened yesterday." 

"I suppose." 

"I'm starving," Jamie says, budging in next to Willow. 

"You're always starving," Maria comments as she walks up and sits on the table, crossing her legs pretzel-style. "Hey, Damian." 

Damian nods, bewildered. "Yes. Hello." 

"What did you bring for lunch?" Joey asks, leaning over to look. 

"Food, same as you," Damian replies, mildly annoyed.

"Right, but like...is it better than mine? Because all I have is peanut butter, and I'm starting to get kinda tired of it." 

"I don't-" 

"I have pie," Jamie announces. "And you can't have any." 

Willow laughs a little, and Damian feels something in his chest flutter. 

"We'll just have to find our own pie," Maria grins. 

"It won't be better than mine," Jamie tells her with a grin. 

They laugh, and Damian huffs. 

"What-" he struggles a little. Grayson always says to be kind to people who are being kind to you. "Why have all of you chosen to sit here?" 

Joey shrugs and grins at him. "We're friends now, right? You go through a demon attack with somebody, if you don't die, you usually come out friends." 

Damian blinks. "Oh. I...suppose." 

"Plus?" Willow grins. "You're totally Batman." 

"He is not!" Maria snaps.

Damian grins a little to himself and eats his lunch, happy to listen to the girls bicker playfully, while Jamie waxes poetic about his pie. 

Joey grins at him again, and Damian nods.


End file.
